Light and Air
by siggy63
Summary: Survival is a choice you have to live with


oOo

Was there ever a reel, a rod or a line,  
So strong and true, so straight or fine?  
That tied and wound him, through time and space.  
He came out of darkness, right to that place.  
– Steve Knightley.

oOo

The night was the worst time. The dark reminded her of the cell she'd been in for the last three weeks, at least she thought it was three weeks, she'd begun to lose track of time no matter how hard she tried to record it. There'd been times when she was unconscious or adrift on a sea of drugs; days might have passed while she floated on the tide of chemicals she'd been given.

The night was the worse time because it brought dreams. She dreamed of him, she dreamed of the worst thing she had ever done. When she awoke she wondered if it had been worth it. She was pretty sure it hadn't.

The night was the worst time because it brought the sounds. The rustling of branches and leaves, she couldn't place them and they were all around her, coming closer…closer.

oOo

"Tau'ri. I bring water."

Sam looked up from her position in the corner of her cell. The light from the corridor beyond the open door hurt her eyes and made her blink.

"Drink, Tau'ri."

He always called her Tau'ri. "Drink, Tau'ri." "Eat, Tau'ri." "Stand up, Tau'ri." "Sit down, Tau'ri."

He had always been gentle and patient with her. While the other Jaffa had been quick to hit her when she was slow to obey, he never raised a hand to her. He would bring her gritty water and black bread. Sometimes he would try to tend to her wounds, but he knew nothing of first aid, and the cloths he used to bathe her cuts and sores were always filthy. Sam figured that nothing would be preferable to rubbing in more dirt, so she'd not let him. He hadn't seemed to mind, and even smiled sadly at her as if he thought she was quite right to recoil from him.

"Sam…my name is Sam." Even as she said the words a plan was forming. She was running out of time; it wouldn't be too long before she would be too weak to try. It had to be soon or not at all.

He patted her knee and smiled.

"Ly'cett."

She winced at hearing his name. She didn't want him to have a name.

"Thank you, Ly'cett."

"Drink, Sam."

She sipped the water and looked at him. He was big like all Jaffa but his face was round and smooth like a little boy. He had big dark eyes that were remarkably expressive for a Jaffa. She thought perhaps he might be a little slow which was why he seemed to be permanently stationed in the dungeons keeping the prisoners, if not well fed, at least alive.

From the corridor there was the ringing of Jaffa armour as a prisoner was brought back from interrogation.

He held his hand out for the tin cup.

"May I keep it, Ly'cett, I haven't finished yet?" Sam smiled as sweetly as she could manage. She could see that he wanted to get back to his duties.

He nodded and swiftly left the cell; the pounding of the blood in her ears muffled the sound of the door being locked.

She ran her finger along the lip of the cup. The dark was absolute, she was almost grateful.

When the other Jaffa came to take her for questioning she hid the cup in the shadows. The thought of it kept her mind off what they did to her.

oOo

Her hand was cramped; her fingers curled and claw like from gripping the metal so hard. The muscles in her forearm burned from the constant movement. Her mind felt liquid from whatever they'd stuck in her to loosen her tongue when other less subtle methods had failed. Sometimes she thought she could hear Jack talking to her, telling her to keep going. He would understand what she had to do, so would Teal'c. Daniel would not. Sometimes she saw him sitting next to her, his eyes sad and pale.

"Daniel, I have to."

She knew he wasn't really there, but tears coursed down her cheeks as he turned his face from her.

"I want to go home, Daniel."

But he had gone, and only the sound of metal on stone kept her company.

oOo

"Sam, wake up."

She felt his hand on her shoulder, he did not shake her, he was always mindful of her hurts. She didn't move, she wanted him close; she'd have one shot at this. There would be no more chances if she failed.

"Sam, you must wake and eat."

She knew he had hunkered down next to her; she felt his breath on her face as he leaned in to look at her.

The blood pumped out of his carotid artery, and sprayed her hand and face with its sticky heat. A sharp contrast to the chill that covered her; She was ice, crystal sharp. There was no trace of her usual warmth.

She didn't stay to watch the light leave his big dark eyes, she'd caught the look of surprise as the metal had sliced his flesh, that was enough...too much; she'd be seeing it for the rest of her life.

The stone chute was slimy from the shit and piss and stale food that was dumped down it daily. It aided her slide to the bottom where a rotting pool of slime and detritus welcomed her. The sunlight was blinding, but she managed to crawl out and head for the dark forest in the distance.

oOo

She didn't know how long she'd been hiding. Time had lost all meaning as heat raged through her body. Infected wounds and burgeoning pneumonia had left her sick and shaking. Her sense for the Gate had left her; normally she felt the pull of the Naquada, but it was lost in the delirium of fever. She gripped her little metal cup, and tried to hear the night sounds of the forest though the pounding of her heart. There was something coming, she tried to stand up, but could only manage to crouch, her back against the thick trunk of a tree.

"Sam?"

She couldn't make out the shape before her; there was no moon tonight and the dark seemed to have the consistency of tar.

"Ly'cett?"

Was she back in her cell…she must be; it would almost be a relief. She couldn't seem to lower her hand though, and she swiped at the figure that leaned towards her.

A cool hand caught hold of her wrist.

"Stand down, Major." She felt another hand touch her face. "Christ, Sam you're burning up." "Jack…sir…Colonel?" She was pretty sure he was real and not a construct of her overheated brain, since none of her previous delusions had touched her.

"Yep, that's all three of me."

Sam heard him key his radio.

"Teal'c, Daniel, I've got her."

She heard them respond. The relief made her limp and she slumped back onto the cool, loamy earth. She felt his hands brushing the matted hair of her forehead and his voice came from far, far away.

"We're going home, Sam."

oOo

Sam looked up from her laptop as Jack walked into the infirmary. He came and stood next to her bed, his hands behind his back.

"I see you've finagled your laptop out of Frasier."

"I threatened to tell Cassie where Janet keeps her secret stash of chocolate." It was true. Sam had been in the infirmary for a week now; she thought she'd go crazy if she didn't have something to take her mind of the pictures in her head.

"Good plan, Carter. I'm impressed."

"Thank you, sir." She shut down her laptop and set it on the bedside table, then watched as he slid a chair over and sat down. Her heart lurched as she saw what he held in his hand.

"Frasier tells me you're not sleeping too well. Would this have anything to do with it?" He held up the battered tin cup.

Sam couldn't take her eyes of it. The bloodstains had dried, making them almost indistinguishable from the rust. She gasped as the Colonel carefully ran his finger along its sharpened lip.

She'd not cried since that night in the cell, but now she felt hot tears roll down her face.

"He was kind to me and I killed him."

Jack put the cup on the floor by his chair; he sat forward and took her hand. She watched his thumb stroke the still healing skin.

"You did what you had to do, Carter. You know that, don't you?"

Sam nodded, her breath hitched on a sob.

"I don't care what did to get out of there, I'm so fucking impressed that you managed it. The Tok'ra intel was not exactly encouraging; the place was a fortress. The fact that we even found the damn planet they'd taken you to was a miracle. You made your own miracle, Sam, you survived. Now all you have to do is learn to live with it."

She looked into his eyes and understood that he'd spent a long time learning to do just that.

"Is it worth it, sir?"

She felt him grip her hand tightly.

"It is to me."

"And to me."

She turned to see Daniel, his eyes liquid and kind. Teal'c stood behind him and inclined his head in greeting.

Sam felt shame bubble through her veins, because she realized that if it meant coming home to her team then it was worth it, and worst of all, she was fairly sure she could live with that.

The alternative was not an option.

The end.


End file.
